Wednesday, December 25, 2002

Tuesday, December 24, 2002

Ugh.
Holiday bliss my sweet ass.
I've got my usual icky holiday feeling going on.
At my house, Christmastime means all my family gather in one room and stare viciously at each other.
Presents exist only as means to extend (now) decades-old disputes. Or better yet, out and out name calling, especially to me.
A relic of some strange Puritan compulsion makes us all go, every year, and endure it like purgatory.
It makes me feel sad to know I go to this and everybody else looks forward to this time of year, and sad that I have to go through it.

Coincidentally, MS magazine has Orlando Bloom on its cover without the ears and hair.
He has black curly hair, and according to the headline "has an accent and EVEN recites poetry."
If you love me, you will give him to me for Christmas.*